Gotham Phantoms
by BlueMoss
Summary: Series of one-shots. Set in an AU during the 1800s, this is basically my excuse to write Batman fluff and throw supernatural monsters into the mix. Rated M for gore and possible triggers in later chapters.
1. Pilot

**This is sort of a... pilot story for a Batman AU I started working on. Actually my first fic ever so feel free to give some writing tips! Hope the characters aren't too OOC. I don't own any of these characters! DC does!**

**Note: These one-shots may not be in order! Check the date.**

**Summary: Serving the Wayne family can be hell. Series of Batman AU one-shots. Supernatural stuff. Set in mid-1800s. BatFam appearances.**

* * *

Nov, 1853

Tim breathed in the November night air. It was cool and he could taste snow in the wind. His ragged and thin clothes would leave anyone else chilled but he didn't mind. He definitely prefered walks out in the cold to being cooped up inside stuffy candle-lit manor. It was a dark and cloudy night, but his eyes could see just fine in darkness. He turned and started to cross the lawn toward the woods. Perhaps a nice walk would clear his mind.

Lost in thought, he failed to sense the small shadow behind him.

Tim saw the sword busting its way out of his chest before he felt it. He let out a small yelp and stared at the blade, falling to his knees as it was withdrawn. Tim slumped and coughed out a mouthful of sticky blood. There aren't many beings that could have snuck up on him, but Tim had an idea who it was. He grit his teeth and turned to see his attacker.

Damian stared down at Tim, shaking in frustration and anger, though Tim could sense that the anger was not directed at him. Tim knew the look on his face and understood. Damian must have done something against his father's wishes and was punished for it. Now the kid was striking out at him to vent steam.

Tim turned his body around to face the boy. The blood from the wound had already stopped and he sould feel the burning that meant it was almost healed already. He tried to speak but just coughed up more blood, which received a disgusted look from Damian. After a few moments Tim asked, "D-Damian? What are you doing?"

Damian's scowl deepened, as did the pit in Tim's belly.

"Shut up, you stupid mutt!" Damian yelled, pointing his bloody sword at him. "I don't have to explain anything to you!"

With that, Damian charged at him. Tim scrambled away from him, barely dodging the sharp blade as it stabbed into the lawn an inch from his head. As Damian pried it out Tim rolled to the side and got to his feet, but the kid already had the sword free and and swung the blade wide. Damian's swing was much faster then Tim could react to. The blade hit his side and followed through his body cavity, opening it like a zipper. Tim fell forward but caught himself before he hit the ground with one arm, the other catching all his organs. He let out a yell in panic and flopped onto his back, then covered the gash with his arms, frantically trying to push his intestines back inside.

"DAMIAN!"

Damian turned from the bloody mess at his feet to find the source of the yell. A very angry Bruce Wayne was striding towards him across the lawn. The kid froze, his mouth slighty open. Anger flowed off his father in waves and as he approached Damian started to slouch, his ice blue eyes trained very hard at the ground in front of him.

Bruce stopped in front of his son and said very calmly, "You will never vent frustration by hurting others ever again. Do you understand me?"

Damian's face snapped up to look him in the face and started, "But father...", but seeing the look of disappointment on his father's face stopped him. His eyes unfocused as he looked past Bruce and agreed. "Yes, father."

"Get back up to the mansion. It will be dawn soon."

Damian numbly turned and started back.

Bruce turned his attention to a hyperventilating Tim, still trying to hold himself together. He knelt and put his hand lightly onto the young man's chest.

"Timothy, move your hands to the side and let it be. Your body will right itself."

Tim did as he was told. He had been stabbed and beaten countless times. He was used to the ache that came with a broken bone mending in minutes or the burning when a cut closed. And even the slightly bloated feeling that happened when his body was replenishing his blood supply. But this was nothing like anything he had experianced before. His organs moved inside him. Like worms, slithering over each other while they found a place to rest. As they began to still, his skin started to burn and the wound finally closed.

After it was over Tim stayed on his back, shaking, covered in sweat and blood. He knew if he tried to sit up his head would spin from the bloodloss. He looked to his side to see that Bruce was still there. Before Tim could speak though Bruce said, "Stay here and rest." and then turned walked back to the manor.

Tim watched him with tired eyes. So much for a walk. At least his mind was clear now. But he definitely never wanted to have to feel his insides move like that again. He could see the sun start to rise and decided that maybe a nap would be nice.

_BONG_

_BONG_

_BONG_

Tim woke with a start, sitting up quickly. He regretted the action immediately as his new blood rushed from his head. The lightheadedness passed quickly and he stood, stretching. He felt stiff and the skin around his middle felt tight. The sun showed that dusk would be in a few hours.

"Damn, I slept the day away...", he muttered to himself.

_BONG_

_BONG_

_BONG_

"Okay I'm coming already!", Tim yelled toward the manor.

As he strode towards the massive home, the stiffness faded and by the time he reached the front door, he was feeling right as rain.

Tim slowly opened the huge door and stuck his head in, peeking into the completely dark entrance hall. Seeing the room empty, he slipped into the manor and closed the door behind him. He made his way through the dark hallways with heavily-draped windows towards the back sitting room. Upon entering the blackened, room Tim's eyes went to the large table on one side where Bruce was sitting with several candles, papers splayed out infront of him. As Tim made his way across the room where his master was he heard a small voice from the large puffy chair in front of the fireplace.

"Sorry."

Tim stopped and turned toward the boy, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"I should not have taken my anger out on you. I was... am... frustrated with my father's judgement. Also, you stink like dog blood." With that Damian turned back to the fireplace.

Tim looked down at his clothes. Cut to shreds and covered blood.

"Well that's not really my fault," he retorted.

Damian's only reponse was to suck his teeth, "-tt-"

As he turned, Tim saw Bruce staring at him. His eyes never left him as Tim moved to stand in front of the master of the house.

"I'm curious, what judgement is he upset about?" Tim asked.

"I caught him torturing a victim last night."

_BANG_

Damain's hand had crashed down on the table. Tim jumped about a foot. He didn't even hear him get up.

"That man raped three women and two young boys! And then he murdered them! He deserved what I did to him, Father!"

Bruce stood up slowly.

"Probably, but we do not torture before we feed on a life. You know that."

"Whatever, his blood tasted like mud anyway." And with that Damian turned in a huff and left the room.

Tim stayed rooted in place for a moment. Bruce stared at the door where Damian left. Tim noticed that his eyes looked tired. Even though his master was a vampire, and he didn't need sleep, he could tell that Damian was wearing on him. "Master Bruce?"

Bruces eyes refocused and turned to him. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he sat back down in his chair.

"I guess the 'children' of our kind are tempermental. I hope he will mature, even though I know his body will not. I also hope, Timothy, that you do not hold any ill feelings toward him after last night."

Tim was quiet for a moment. "No. I mean, he did say he was sorry," he said quietly to the table.

"Well, don't let him make a habit of it. If he does it again you may fight back."

Tim didn't respond. He didn't want to tell Bruce that even if he tried to fight back there would be no way he could defeat Damian in a fight. The kid was lighting fast and ruthless when engaged in battle. Tim could barely go toe-to-toe with him on full moons, and forget any other night.

Bruce held up a letter. It was thick and wrapped in twine. "I need you to deliver this to the Nelson Manor oustide Boston. Make sure you only put it Kent's hands. If you make the run tonight you should be able to get back my morning."

Tim took the letter and turned it over a couple times in his hands. "Is this the territory agreement? Why is it so large?"

Bruce stayed quiet.

"Master?"

Bruce sat back in his chair. "Damian. The Nelsons want information on him."

"What? Why?"

Bruce sighed and leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Most of the time, when children are turned into vampires, the results are disastrous. The children's minds cannot take the change and are tortured from the inside. Usually they are.. put down. But Damian has not had these troubles. His powers and strength grow every night and at a much faster rate than 'adult' vampires. The Nelsons want updates on his growth. One of the conditions of the agreement are these reports."

"Hmm. Does Damian know about this?"

"No." Bruce looked troubled. He really did not want to be doing this. But in order to keep the city he grew up in protected, he needed the Nelson agreement.

Tim sighed. "Alright, don't worry about a thing. I'll get it there." He turned to leave the room but stopped.

"Where's Alfred?"

"I sent him into town to pick up a few things."

"Oh. Well. See you in the morning." With that he left the room. Tim moved through the mansion quietly and exited on the opposite side of the main doors.

The walk to the stables was short. The sun was still up. About two hours to sunset. He figured it was enough time to wash up. The stables where empty; the Wayne family didn't own any horses. He set the letter inside and continued another 30 yards to the river, then stripped and waded in to clean off the dried sweat and blood. The water was freezing, and felt amazing. After he was clean, Tim returned to the stables.

He got out his harness and slipped it on. It was lose on his small form. Making sure the letter was snuggly placed inside a pocket, Tim returned to the lawn to watch the sunset.

He was giddy, excited, as he always was now during the sunset before a full moon. He couldn't wait to fly through the trees. To feel the night's wind on his face. To have the world open itself to him through its smells, sights, and sounds that weren't there any other night.

And after the last light of day had left the winter air a howl broke over the trees.


	2. May Day

**A short chapter that I really needed to get out of my system. There might be triggers here so read with caution. I don't own these characters!**

**Note: These one-shots may not be in order! Check the date.**

**Summary: Pranking around at Tim!**

**Stay tuned after the main story for my drunk version of this!**

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May, 1854

If anyone was asked they would have told you that it was a nice day. It wasn't too warm or too cool, and a nice breeze was blowing. Tim was sitting in the shadows of the treeline behind the manor, watching the shadows of the clouds has they rolled over the lawn. He had been lugging logs out of the woods all morning to chop into firewood and felt he deserved a break before taking the ax to them.

The back door of the manor opened and a happy-looking blonde girl exited, making her way across the lawn toward him. Probably coming to say hello before tending to the horses. But she stopped right before entering the shadows and just looked at him with a huge stupid smile on her face.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Hey."

Her smile quickly faded. "Uh, hey."

Awkward silience followed where neither of them moved untill Stephanie broke it.

"So, um, you taking a break?"

"Yeah."

Stephanie crossed her arms and scanned the treeline, eyes resting on the pile of logs behind him. "And then you're going to chop those logs up?"

Tim had quite the look of confusion on his face as he responded. "Er, yes?" This was strange. Why was she asking him this stuff? And talking like that?

Stephanie bit her lower lip and screwed her face up. "Ah. That's cool."

He was very confused now. "Steph what are you-" but he didn't get to finish. Ice cold water hit him from behind. He gasped and his back muscles clenched, forcing him to sit straight up. Stephanie was bent over in front of him, holding her sides from laughter.

He swung around to see Dick holding a large empty pail while sporting the biggest, toothiest smile.

Dick dropped the pail and put a hand to his mouth. "Oop!"

Tim clamped his teeth together and tackled the man, throwing them both to the ground. They wresled on the ground for a minute, Dick and Stephanie laughing the whole time. In almost no time Dick had Tim pinned. "Rahhhh! OK, stop, stop!"

Dick responded with a loud dramatic "HA! I am the leader of this pack!" which made Stephanie double over in wheezing gasps of more laughter. Dick stood and suddenly the man was gone - there stood a towering wolfman. He growled and picked Tim up by his ankle and held him above the ground. Tim flailed uselessly but eventually gave up and just hung there.

Dick put him down gently and leaped away, landing on a low branch of a nearby tree and gave him a big wolf smile.

Tim got up and scowled at him, then turned to his female friend. She was distracting him! Tim marched over to her in faux anger and pointed a finger at her. "This was your idea, wasn't it?"

She confirmed his statement by half-sitting half-falling on her butt with a new round of gaffawing. He stood over her as she fell to her back, snorting out at him.

He got on his knees next to her and smiled. "Oh yeah? Well how about this?" His hands shot out and started to tickle her. She shreaked with laughter, flailing. But after a moment she gasped and her eyes shot open. The flailing turned from silly to defensive.

"Stop!"

Tim noticed the change and his hands flew away from her as he sat back, giving her some space. "Oh gosh, Stephanie. I'm sorry!"

She scooted away and stared wide-eyed at him, trying to catch her breath. After a long pause she smiled. "Ha! Got ya!"

Tim gave her a hard look. "Steph... That's not funny."

"Heeeeeee. I thought so." She glanced behind him and then looked away. Tim turned to see a strangely quiet Dick right behind him. "Now if you will excuse me, I have some horses to take care of." With that, the blonde stood and marched towards the stables which were a short distance away.

Tim got up to stand next to the large wolfish creature, watching her go. She wasn't faking. He could smell the fear on her, and Dick had to have smelled it too. Tim sighed and turned to him. "Think she's going to be okay?"

Dick responded with a small whine and put a large paw on Tim's shoulder.

"Now I feel like shit."

A soft growl and shake of the head said 'Not your fault.'

Tim watched Dick dash to the trees, heading out to check the borders. He looked at the stable again then turned to take his frustration out on some logs.

In the stables, Stephanie muttered to herself. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Ughhh." Hot tears stung her face. As she worked, her hands started to shake. "No, no. Don't start now." She slammed her back against the wall of the stall and slid down, wrapping her arms around her knees and hiding her face until the attack passed.

* * *

This was my first attempt at writing this chapter. I had a few drinks...

CHAPTER 2:

DICK HAS A NICE ASS!

-fin

time to get srs

**DICK HAS AN EPIC ASS!**

-fin

no rly

i cant write this cause the beer bottle was in the way


	3. Cold Nights

**I needed to write a somewhat fluffy thing. I don't own these characters!**

**Note: These one-shots may not be in order! Check the date.**

**Summary: Dick gets home after a long mission and has a talk with the younger members of the house.**

**This story takes place about a week after the pilot(chapter 1).**

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Dec, 1853

The front door of the mansion opened with a loud BANG! The wind from the blizzard raging outside had pushed the door harder then expected. From the dark night stepped a man who looked very travel worn. His raven black hair was full of snow and his face red from the wind. But despite this, his bright blue eyes and face were smiling.

He took a deep breath. "Ah. Good to be back."

"Welcome back, Richard. But could you please close the door before I have to shovel the front hall?"

Dick turned to see the small elderly British man, dressed in a fine pressed suit and holding a candle. "Oh, but of course, my good Alfred," he responded with his worst British accent, then closed the door.

Alfred narrowed his eyes. "I see the winter storm has not chilled your humor, Richard."

Dick stretched his arms over his head. "Oh relax. I'm only teasing you. Where is everybody?"

"Young Master Damian is in the west sitting room. I do believe Timothy is down in the basement. And Master Bruce is doing something in town."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "In town, huh? He must really have that heart fire thing down if he can go out in this shit weather." Dick pointed behind him with his thumb.

"Indeed. And it seems you have picked up some new vocabulary words as well."

"I'll try to remember to wash my mouth out later." Dick put his hands on his hips and peered around the hall. It was pitch dark except for the candle, but being a wolf meant awesome night vision. He could still remember how it looked when he started living there at the age of nine. Gold and bright and sunny. Now it was always dark. He spotted Damian entering the space on west side. "Hey Little D! What's up?"

"Oh, It's you," came a flat response as the kid started to walk over to them.

"Nice to see you too. How you holding up in the cold?"

"Fine." But his shivering body betrayed him.

"I'll go make you something... warm to drink," Alfred said, returning to the back kitchens.

Dick never really thought about it before, but Damian's small size probably meant the low temperature affected the kid much more than adult-sized vampires. Even before Bruce learned the heart fire trick, Dick could never remember a time when he saw him shivering.

"I take it your mission was a success, considering you have returned alive?"

"Yeah, it was all right. I'll tell Bruce about it when he gets back from town."

Damian looked a little put out. "Fine," then returned to the west side of the manor.

Dick felt bad brushing Damian off like that. The kid may have been a self-entitled brat, but that wasn't really his fault. His upbringing before arriving here couldn't exactly be called normal. Dick sighed and moved into the east hallyway.

After the event that changed both Bruce and him, Wayne Manor had been split in half. The west side sported heavy black curtains on all the windows and was generally kept in darkness all the time. The east side's window blinds, however, were almost always open, and it was on this side that Alfred slept.

Dick reached the stairs that led to the basement and bounded down them nearly all at once. He and Tim had taken up sleeping down here in the old servants quarters. The underground provided a nice constant cool that felt comfortable almost all year. Dick quietly stalked down the hallway towards Tim's room, whose door was spilling out candlelight. He peeked inside to see the kid writing on some papers.

"Hey Timmbo, I'm back!"

Tim jumped, not expecting the loud shout. "Jeez, Dick! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Wouldn't that be something," Dick teased, ruffling the young man's hair.

Tim gave him a sour look. He hated jokes like that, but he knew that's why Dick made them. But no one could stay sour at the man for long. The look was replaced with a smile as they clasped hands. "Glad you're back. Damian's been driving me crazy."

"Still calling you dog names?"

Tim sighed. "Yeah. He almost sliced my organs out last week. That was something new. Like worms. Still creeping me out."

Dick was not smiling. "He cut you open? Why?"

"He was frustrated about something. Master Bruce punished him I think. Even told me he was sorry." Tim shrugged.

"Tim..."

"Nah, it's OK. I'm mostly over it."

Tim was a terrible liar. "You're a terrible liar."

Busted. "Alright, fine. It kind of upsets me that the little demon is only 2 months old and could beat the crap out of me. He snuck up on me and there was nothing I could do about it. And then, Master Bruce sends me to Boston the next night with the final papers for the Nelson Agreement and there were like, 20 wolves there. And they were all huge! Like one touch and they would be able to break me in two. They knew I was nervous too and oh man, it was so embarrassing." Tim leaned forward over the small table and hid his face in his hands.

Dick sat on Tim's bed and thought for a moment on what to say. "Tim, you may not be as big or as strong other wolves, but you have your own advantages. You're really fast and you fight smart. You're just really smart, period. I mean, you were the one that found the best territory lines for all those border agreements. I sure as heck wouldn't have been able to figure all that junk out. And I can think of a group a people who would have been dog chow last May if you hadn't saved them from those wandering wolves."

Tim had turned on the stool and was facing him now.

"And Damian... he got you when it wasn't a full moon. That really was not fair of him. He shouldn't have attacked you at all. I know you're worried about being weaker then him, and to be honest Tim, I'm worried about it too. That kid is growing stronger at a crazy rate. He's going to start being able to put the beat on me soon enough."

"But you can night walk, Dick. If you change you could take him easy."

"I can night walk cause I worked hard at mastering the skill. You'll get the hang of it soon."

"I've been trying to get the hang of it for a year, but I keep getting nothing."

"Hmm. I think it might have something to do with how old we were when we were bitten. I was 22, and you were 15. It could be it's harder for you because your body isn't as mature as mine. But I don't know for sure. I've only been doing this for 7 years."

Both were quiet then, but Dick knew what the look on Tim's face meant. His eyes were squinted and he had a hand to his chin. Dick could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.

Dick stood up and started to leave the room. He wasn't going get anymore conversation out of Tim when he's entered think mode. As he reached the door Dick heard a voice behind him.

"Hey Dick..."

He looked over his shoulder at the young man.

Tim had a small smile on his face. "Thanks."

Dick raised a hand, waving it off while he left the room. "Anytime, kid!"

He traveled back up the hallway, returning upstairs. He probably needed to stop calling Tim 'kid'. Dick's feet automatically took him to the west sitting room. He wanted to see if Bruce was back so he could give him the report and then take a long snooze.

Upon entering the room the first thing he noticed was that Bruce wasn't back yet. His eyes then went to the dying fire in hearth. Damian was sitting in the large overstuffed armchair in front of it. He was bent over something, probably a sketchbook, and was scribbling on it with an ink pen. Dick quietly moved closer to try and get a peek at what he was doodling.

Damian, however, noticed the intruder before he could get a good look and snapped the book closed. "Father isn't back yet, Grayson," he said without looking up.

"Eh" Dick shrugged.

Damian looked over to him. He looked like he wanted to ask Dick a question, but pride was holding him back.

Dick noticed. "Something wrong, D?"

The little boy looked back down to the book in his hands. "I don't feel very good. This cold... I can't draw because my hands are shaking."

The older man moved over to kneel in front of the chair, taking the little boy's hands in his and rubbing them to warm them up.

Damian gave Dick a nasty look, but didn't stop him.

The kid looked tired. All that shivering was probably keeping him from getting any decent rest. Dick had an idea, though he was more then likely going to get himself stabbed for it. Dick shifted his hands and shoved the small boy to one side of the chair then swiftly plopped his butt on the other side. The chair was just large enough for both of them to fit.

"What are you-" Damian began to protest but Dick cut him off, putting an arm around him.

"Just warming you up."

The kid looked awkward for a moment before leaning into the man.

"Damian, I need to talk to you about Tim."

He didn't respond at first. "So the dog told you about when I attacked him?"

Dick frowned. "Yes."

"I know I should not have done that and I did apologize."

"I know, but did you attack him because you think he's weak?"

Damian squirmed.

"Listen, Tim is not weak. In a lot of ways he's stronger then I am. We werewolves are not like vampires, Damian. We have to work and train for our strength where yours just comes with the gig. Some of us pick it up naturally while for others it can be much harder. Tim is trying really hard and you should respect him for that."

Damian mulled the words over.

"And both of you need to be nicer to each other. You don't have to best pals with him, but at least be civil."

Dick heard a quiet "I'll try."

"Good," He could feel that Damian's shivering had stopped and the boy's body was relaxed against him. Dick put his head back and closed his eyes. He was more tired then he realized and decided that there was no harm in getting a little shut-eye before Bruce got back.


End file.
